Spider-Gwen: DIY Defeat (Part 2)

“What you do… isssssss…” she turned to look at another camera, “take… their mask off!”

Screwball paused, wearing a big grin, letting what she just said sink in for her viewers.

“But, le gasp, Screwball!” she clapped a hand to her cheek, Home Alone style, “Don’t you know you have to save the unmasking for the end?! That’s the number one super villain rule! You have to be dramatic about it! You can’t just reveal your hero’s identity right off the bat!”

The villainess stuck her tongue out and made a silly face.

“Well, listen to this,” she turned back to Gwen, “That’s what EVERY big super villain does. They capture their nemesis, put them in an escapable situation, gloat and monologue, then maybe, MAYBE they threaten to reveal their identity. And what does it get them? It gets them their butts kicked!”

She found the seam where Gwen’s mask met the neck of her costume and began working it up with careful little tugs.

“Once you have a super’s secret identity, it’s pretty much over for them!” Screwball rolled the mask over the heroine’s chin, “So, we’re not going to wait around today! The mask comes off right now, missy! Let’s see what you’re hiding under there!”

With the snugness of the mask starting to slip, the villainess pinched at the very top of the unconscious spider’s head then drew it up. It slowly slid over her slack mouth, then her nose…

Screwball leaned closer to whisper as the mask pealed up off the other girl’s cheeks and eyes.

“Don’t worry, I’ll blur your face out for this part. Can’t have EVERYONE seeing your—BLONDIE!”

When the mask finally popped off, Gwen’s straw-blonde hair fell free and Screwball squealed with delight.

“Squeee! I LOVE blondes!” she let the mask fall so she could pet the bleached tresses, “She’s got a little angel head!”

Scooching yet closer, the villainess hunched over the beaten superheroine like a child with a new toy. Giggling, she comb-comb-combed her fingers through the chin-length blonde hair, brushing it away from the sleeping face.

Gwen was pretty enough to be a cheerleader type if she wanted, but had gone for a more wild, punky look. She had full lips and a small nose, a perfect jaw line and cute chin, her only imperfection being a slightly gap in her front teeth that showed between her relaxed lips. Despite her natural, all-American looks, she had pierced one of her elegant eyebrows with a silver stud and parted her hair to one side, letting it fall over her face in an almost boyish affectation. She looked like a princess in rebellion, with all the pieces of the homecoming queen but dressed up as a tom boy.

Screwball loved it. She stroked the back of her fingers over the girl’s face, lightly touching the angry scrapes she’d picked up on her cheek and forehead from the beating she’d taken.

“Yum…” she grinned, before looking up at the nearest camera, “Sorry I won’t be letting you guys see her face yet; that will have to be for another video. But, as a preview of coming attractions… can you say keeee-yoot?!”

Leaning down, the enamored villainess wrapped her arms around the exposed heroine’s shoulders. Sitting back, she drew the limp girl with her, sitting her up and hugging her to her chest.

“Mmmmm mmmm MMMMM!” she squeezed Gwen like a stuffed teddy, “Too, TOO cuddly! I am going to have so much fun with you!”

Gwen’s shoulders were shrugged up by the enthusiastic hug, arms squeezed into her breasts. Her head lolled to rest to the side, cheek pillowed against her shoulder.

Clenching her eyes shut, Screwball squeezed to the point of discomfort, even drawing a small wheeze from the other girl as her breathing was restricted. She rocked, lolling the limp heroine’s head slightly, before finally relaxing the hug and drawing back to grin affectionately.

“Mmmmmmmmmm-MWAH!” she pressed a long kiss to Gwen’s cheek, before drawing back again, leaving a smudge of lipstick, “Cutie patootie!”

Still staring fondly at her captive’s sleeping face, Screwball heaved a sigh, her giddiness sated for the moment. She pulled out her phone again, took careful pictures of the heroine’s unmasked face, then put it away.

Now it was time to get back to the show.

“So!” she turned back towards one of the hovering cameras, “Anyway… hm… where was I…?”

Screwing her lips up, she cocked her head as she tried to recall. She stroked Gwen’s hair idly as she did, combing it back over the girl’s forehead, her other arm looped around the sleeping girl’s shoulders to keep her sat up.

“Right, so!” she grinned, suddenly remembering, “Part A of the collecting step is unmasking. Part B is, ya gotta make sure they stay all sleepyheaded for a while! You’re going to have other things to worry about while you’re getting them back to your lair slash hideout slash safe house, you don’t need to have them waking up on the way!”

She had continued to stroke the blonde locks as she’d explained, but now she lowered the stroking hand to reach into her satchel again.

“Control is muy importanto!” the villainess scrounged in the pink bag, “You may have just clonked them on the head and put them in la la land, but you can never tell how long they’re going to stay there! You need to know how long they’re going to be kayoed for and also when they’re going to wake up!”

She finally produced a bottle about the size of a tube of lipstick. Grinning broadly, she thrust it towards the camera, close enough that the lens could pick up the name on the label.

“For my money,” Screwball said, with the artificial cadence of an infomercial, “I like Wiz Villain’s Sleep Spray! It’s small, easy to use, and guaranteed to put your own little super to beddy bye for as long as you like! Watch!”

Popping off the cap, she aimed the spray nozzle at Gwen’s already sleeping face.

“One spritz will keep our Spider-Girl nice and cuddly/helpless for two solid hours!” she pushed the button to demonstrate, “Quick acting and fool proof! Just make sure you don’t dose yourself!”

Gwen barely reacted to the mist sprayed into her face. Her breath caught for a moment and her expression tensed as she let out dainty cough. However, the drug settled almost immediately into her system and she relaxed again with a faint moan, falling into a deeper sleep.

“Sorry, Spidey!” Screwball declared, thrusting the small sprayer back towards the camera, “But you’re not going to be escaping any time soon, thanks to Wiz Villain’s Sleep Spray!” she offered a movie star grin, then said in a more natural tone, “Also, big thanks to Wiz Villain for sponsoring my videos! You guys are the best!”

Her paid plug completed, the internet villainess replaced the cap back onto the spray bottle then stuffed it back into her satchel.

“So step one of…” she paused, “I mean, so part B of step 5 is making sure they’re out for a while. Now onto part C: taking all their gadgets and things!”

The villainess turned back to Gwen. Grinning, she couldn’t resist a quick stroke of the sleeping girl’s hair, then laid her gently back down to the floor.

“That means…” she cupped behind Gwen’s head to lay it down slowly, so it didn’t conk on the floor, “All their usual thingies. Your blaster bracelets, super sight goggles, ray guns, magic swords…”

She took the heroine’s limp wrist and started working the glove off her hand.

“Know all about your super’s gadgets and toys before you go after them,” Screwball said, laying the glove down and moving to the silver bracelet on the girl’s wrist, “Like our spider’s web shooters. They all got em, so you need to take em.”

Holding onto Gwen’s forearm, she unclipped the web shooter, then slipped it off her hand and moved to the other.

“Taking these makes our little Spider-Girl more like really-good-gymnast-girl,” she held up the two web shooters, waggling them for the camera, “Plus, fun to play with!”

She pushed one of the tabs and sprayed a quick line of webbing. Giggling, she watched the line fly up like filly string, then fall again without striking anything.

“Maybe I’ll craigslist these or something!” she grinned, brushing aside the webbing and laying the web shooters out of the way, “Anyway, after the run of the mill stuff, you have to check for secret gizmos.”

Leaning forward, she began a frisk, starting on Gwen’s arm and working down. Her hands groped briskly, squeezing just enough to feel if something was hidden beneath the spandex before jumping a couple of inches down and doing it again.

“That’s a big thing lots of villains don’t think about,” she explained, squeezing her way from the heroine’s shoulder to her wrist, “Sure, you take your supe’s magic hammer, their teleportation helmet, but what about the lockpicks they have in their glove? It’s the little things they always use to escape. And I don’t want my spider to escape! I have too many fun things planned!”

After frisking the other arm and lying it down at the girl’s side, Screwball felt across Gwen’s collars bones, then moved down.

“You’re not trying to cop a feel,” she grinned, “You can if you want, but don’t get distracted! Plenty of time for that later!”

She gave the spider’s breasts a testing squeeze to feel for anything hidden, traced her fingers beneath the undercurves, then moved down her stomach.

“I mean, super girlies have to expect a LITTLE tlc when they get captured, you know?” Screwball continued, “It’s part of the—oopsies!” She stopped at Gwen’s waist, “Found something!”

Finding the seam between the spandex top and bottoms, she rolled the top of the costume up, revealing Spider-Woman’s grooved abs, belly button, and a thin, silver belt just at the top of her leggings. It was a flat, paneled accoutrement, fitting so snug it was invisible beneath the spandex.

“What’s this?” Screwball pressed the belt’s small buckle to unclip it, “Sneaky, sneaky! What did I tell ya!?”

With the belt undone, she slipped it out from under Gwen’s back, then held it up to the camera. It was clearly made in a similar design to the web shooters, light and flexible with rows of small gray capsules set in silver segments.

“A little tool belt with extra webbing and stuff!” the villainess gave it a waggle, “Cha-ching! Would have missed that if I hadn’t checked! Now it’s alllll mine!”

Offering another spritely grin to the camera, she tossed the belt onto the web shooters and continued her search. She felt down Gwen’s well-shaped thighs to her calves, then her ankles.

“A captured super will use anything all clever-like to escape,” she said as she worked, “Who knows what she could have used that for, but better if she has nothing at all, know what I’m saying?”

Finally finished with the search, she patted Gwen’s hip, an encouraging, playful gesture.

“Okay, part C is doneso!” she grinned, “And now… we get the cuff-cuffs!”

* * *

Screwball put her hands on her hips, looking down on her work with satisfaction.

“Whew!” she wiped pretend sweat from the brow of her helmet, “And done! Snug as a bug and not going anywhere!”

On the ground, Gwen had been fitted into large, homemade restraints that would have held her almost entirely immobile, even if she weren’t unconscious. Made from old car parts, a metal collar was connected to similar restraints fitted on her legs by a small post, keeping her head almost pressed to her knees. Her wrists were shackled behind her and her ankles with a thick chain. Left lying on her side, the restraints kept her tucked into as compact a ball as her own flexibility would allow.

The villainess grinned. She’d put her captive’s masks and gloves back on, though the mask was a bit crooked. Producing her cell phone, she leveled it and snapped a few quick pics.

“If this isn’t clickbait,” she strolled around for a different angle, “I’ll be a spider’s auntie!”

From the back, Gwen’s legs dominated the shot, bunched up tight, lithe muscles squeezed together. With her knees tucked in, her rump protruded noticeably, a glossy heart shape of black spandex.

Screwball gave it a playful nudge with her toe.

“She’s got a lil badonkadonk, doesn’t she?”

She walked around the girl to get yet another angle, phone still held out like a talisman.

“See what I did?” the villainess turned to grin at one of the drone cameras, “To keep your spider good and secure, you need to hold them in a position where they can’t get any leverage. With her legs tucked in so tight, she won’t be able to use the big muscles in her booty and thighs. Even if she was awake, she’d just be a squirming little spider ball!”

Making her way back around to where she started, Screwball snapped a couple of more pics for posterity, then tucked her phone back into her belt.

“Not to mention, she’s nice and compact for transport!” she beamed, “Which brings us to step… umm… part D?” she shook her head, “Whatever, edit that part out later. Transport!”

Skipping away, she left the cameras to focus on the bound, unconscious heroine while she moved to her next prop. Circling around a crate about the size of an old TV set, she leaned her shoulder into it and pushed with her legs. The crate scraped over the concrete floor, going faster as the villainess picked up momentum.

The cameras picked up the scraping that rang off the bare walls, then Screwball entered the frame pushing the wooden crate. She stopped it beside the curled-up figure on the floor, then stood back upright to address the nearest drone.

“Ta da!” she swept her arm wide in a grand gesture, “My handy dandy superheroine transportation box! Perfect for moving your super captive from point A to point B with nobody being the wiser!”

Snatching a small crowbar off the top of the crate, she began prying the lid open with quick little jerks.

“There’s something to be said for the old carrying-the-heroine-off-over-the shoulder-routine,” she wiggled one corner of the lid up, then moved to another, “But unless you’ve got super strength or some major muscles, which I don’t, that will get tots tiring. Super exhilarating at first, but what about fifteen minutes into your trip back to the lair, and you’re still carrying 150 pounds of limp, spandex-clad goodness? Hope you’ve got a good chiropractor!”

The lid came off and Screwball tossed it aside. The inside of the crate was three fourths full of white packing peanuts, like any crate or box. The villainess reached inside to toss up a handful of them with a smirk.

“For us DIY, homemade types, we have to be more careful,” she explained, “If you’ve got some super powers of your own, maybe you can improv if another supe notices you carrying off their gal pal. Me? I like my escape to be slow and luxurious, not fast and furious. So, we’re going to tuck our heroine in cozy and comfy, then get her out of here with no one the wiser.”

Stepping back, she reached into her satchel and withdrew an Xbox controller she’d heavily customized with duct tape and an antenna. Flicking it on, she worked one of the joysticks with her thumb in a circular motion.

The crane moved in tandem, the arm turning back and forward, then up and down as she fiddled with the controls.

“I’m not even going to try to lift her,” Screwball said, “If she were just in the spandex I could hang, but with all that metal on her? Nah, we’re doing this the easy way.”

Playing around with the controls for a few more moments, getting used to them, she made the crane arm turn, lower, draw back up, then turn again, gears and hydraulics whining.

“More fun too,” the villainess said, “Okay, guys! Let’s see if I can get her the first try…”

Turning her attention back to her captive, Screwball pushed on the joystick, directing the arm towards her. She overshot, the arm not stopping precisely when she stopped pushing on the controls, then had to push it back the other way. Overshooting again, she scowled and tapped on the joystick, moving it closer and closer in jerks.

“Come on…” she murmured, “Come to mama…”

The dangling arm stopped somewhat over its target, swinging idly, and the internet villainess tapped on the other joystick, lowering it down. The hook came down in careful spurts, its operator not wanting to drop it into the heroine’s ribs. It lowered until it became clear that it wasn’t quite in line with Gwen’s metal post, then was nudged carefully back.

Screwball’s tongue stuck out the corner of her mouth as she concentrated, squinting behind the visor of her helmet.

“Almost… Boom! There we go!”

The hook was stopped just above Gwen’s body, still swinging gently.

Screwball came forward and set down the controller. Taking the hook in one hand, steadying it, she bent down to take the post connecting the collar and knee shackles in the other. With a heave, she yanked the post up, rolling Gwen onto her back.

“Ooof…” she grunted with effort, trying to force the bar onto the hook. It had been difficult enough getting the heroine onto her back with only one arm, now she was straining to bring the metal post to the hook, but it was a couple of inches out of reach.

She struggled for a few seconds, long enough to get red in the face, then gave up with a gasp. Gwen fell back onto her side, her cuffs clanking to the floor.

“Freaking thing…” the villainess grumbled, turning back to snatch up the converted Xbox controller.

She gave the joystick a single tap, lowering the arm just a smidge, then returned to try again.

This time the bar slipped over the curve of the hook. Gwen was supported, on her back, knees and chest drawn together but head hanging back, mouth gaping beneath her mask.

“Bingo!” Screwball skipped back over to the controller and scooped it up, “Just like getting a stuffed animal from one of those machine things! Sort of!”

Pushing on the joystick lifted the hook and its unconscious passenger into the air with another whine of mechanics.

The position looked highly uncomfortable for Gwen. She was essentially dangling from her neck and knees, head pulled upright as the collar slipped under her chin. Her rump hung downwards, head nodding onto her knees, her shoulders slumped and arms drooped. She was hung up like a piglet for slaughter, but remained completely slack, her unconscious body allowing the indignity.

Another tap on the joystick hovered the limp girl to the side, over the open crate, then she was lowered down.

“I think I’ve got the hang of it now!” Screwball grinned, “In we go!”

The hook swung Gwen gently as she was lowered, so the villainess took it nice and slow, making sure the heroine wouldn’t bang off the edge. The crate wasn’t much bigger than its intended occupant was, so it was a careful process, the heroine slowly descending, then pausing, being adjusted, then descending again until she cleared the edges.

Finally, Spider-Woman sank down into the box with a rustle of packing peanuts. She drifted down until her rump pressed to the bottom of the crate and her body relaxed, head allowed to flop into the back wall of the crate. The hook continued to sink until it rested empty on her stomach, coming loose of the restraints. Once it was free, it rose back up and drifted away.

With that part done, Screwball skipped over to the crate. She grinned down inside at the tightly packed heroine, buried to her stomach in packing peanuts, then turned back to the cameras.

“And there you go!” the villainess beamed, “THAT is how you bag a superhero! Screwhead tested, Spider-Girl approved!”

Reaching into the crate, she gave Gwen a pat on the head, still grinning into the camera.

“Thanks for watching! Check the links below for more details on how I made my gadgets and make sure to tune in next time for a very special, mega video…”

She lowered her chin mischievously, grinning like a fox.

“My next video will be… the unmasking of Spider-Girl,” her grin broadened, “No blurring, no censors. Pay the fee and you’ll be one of the select few who gets to see who she really, truly is. She could be that girl in math class! She could be your school’s head cheerleader! She could be that cute blonde you see on the subway every day but never talked to! Or she could be just another pretty face. You won’t know unless you check it out!”

Petting Gwen’s sleeping head like a puppy, she paused for effect. Gwen’s head bobbled gently, nudged by the soft touch.

“And here’s the real kicker,” she tittered, “As part of a game we’ll be playing, you’ll get little clues as to who she really is. The first one that can guess? I’ll send you her mask. No tricks, no fakes, the reeeeeeal thing. Yours.”

She ran her tongue over her teeth.

“But, ya gotta play if you wanna win. So tune in next time. Later, Screwheads!”

Leaning against the crate, the villainess made a duck face with her lips, threw up deuces and posed. Holding it for a second, she gave herself time to add on some music or special effects in the edit, then pressed a button on her belt. It finally killed the cameras. She could relax.

Screwball sighed with relief and reached up to unclip the chin strap of her helmet.

“That!” she grinned, undoing the buckle, “Was. The. BOMB!”

Taking off her helmet, she tossed it in the air then caught it with a laugh, shaking out her long brown hair. Beneath the white headgear and visor was an unremarkably pretty girl, her hair mousey and messy, jaw a bit too squared, certainly not ugly but not someone most people would look twice at. However, if one looked closer they might notice an off-setting intensity in her blue eyes, a stare that looked right through most people and latched onto what she wanted with an unblinking hunger. They were the eyes of someone who only paid attention to what suited her, but what did earn her notice was a subject of dangerous obsession.

Now that gaze fixed on Gwen, eyes shining with glee.

“That one’s going to put me over a hundred thou subscribers easy,” she leaned closer, “And the next one… woo, baby! I’m going to be the number one most liked, most faved, most followed contributor EVER!” she tickled under Gwen’s chin, “And it’s all thanks to you, cutie pie!”

Giggling softly, even shivering with excitement, the girl that was Screwball looked Gwen over for a moment. The heroine was tucked in uncomfortably tight, her lower half vanishing beneath the packing peanuts but for her knees which sprouted out like rock fixtures at high tide. The crate was just big enough to fit her, her head poking up out of the top and resting on against its open edge.

Screwball circled around to that side, staring with the same intensity as cat on a wounded sparrow. She sank down to the floor, her arm gliding across the edge of the crate so she could lean over the heroine’s shoulder.

“Sorry for how hard this has been on you, sweetie,” she whispered, lowering her mouth to Gwen’s ear, “And it’s going to get harder. But that’s how the game is played. I don’t hate you or anything. I actually really like you.”

With another playful giggle, she nuzzled the heroine’s cheek with her nose.

“I like you a lot…” she purred, her nuzzling gently nudging Gwen’s head towards her shoulder, “We’re going to have fun too. Lots of fun. I’m going to show you all kinds of things. You’ll see.”

Her other hand snuck down under Gwen’s chin and pinched the mask. Carefully, as if not to disturb the sleeping girl, Screwball rolled the mask up over her captive’s nose.

“We’re going to be really close,” she breathed, “I’m going to know who you are by the time you wake up. And after that, I’ll learn everything else. All your secrets, everything you’d hide. It will be like… you’re naked.”

Giggling at that thought, she placed a hand on Gwen’s cheek, guiding it to face her. With the mask bunched up over her nose, her pink lips were exposed, pursed with gentle, sleeping breaths. The gap in her teeth still showed beneath her upper lip, adding a hint of girlish innocence beneath the angular, bug-lenses of the mask.

“You are just too cute, you know?” Screwball closed in, “I think… I’m going to keep you…”

Then she took Gwen’s lips in a gentle kiss.

The spider’s lips were soft and limp and the young villainess barely pressed, only feeling them with her own. She captured the top lip, kissing it delicately, even suckling, before moving down to the bottom to do the same. It was careful enough that she didn’t nudge the sleeping girl, but she reached to cup the back of her head anyway.

“Mmmm…” Screwball purred, pressing just a bit more intently.

Her tongue flicked and played over the lips and teeth, teasing along the little gap, which made the villainess grin even as she pressed. She nuzzled Gwen’s nose with her own, nudging it affectionately. It was sweet, careful probing, just tasting the heroine with a feathery touch, as if afraid to wake her.

She continued the kiss as she reached down for her cell phone. Her hand moved slowly, distractedly to her hip, felt around until she found the phone, then clumsily unclipped it from her belt. Still enjoying Gwen’s lips, she opened one eye to peer at her phone, switching through tabs until she got to camera mode. Even now, she was thinking like an internet geek.

Holding out the phone, she turned slightly to check the reticle. Her lips left Gwen’s for a moment but continued mechanically kissing at nothing as she checked the shot. Once she was pleased with the angle, she turned back and closed her eyes, going back to enjoying herself.

The phone chirped as she snapped a few more pictures of her kissing the unconscious heroine in her crate. Those would be awesome to post on her website, or maybe even keep them for herself. She purred at the thought, pressing a bit deeper into the kiss.

After almost a minute of the soft, suckling sounds of lips to lips, Screwball drew back with a smug grin. She stroked some of the dampness from Gwen’s lips with her thumb.

“Time to tuck you in, cutie.” She wiggled the mask back down, “I’ll see you soon, mkay? By the time you wake up, I’ll know your name.”

Smiling, she bent to pick up the lid of the crate. She was about to set it back in its place but paused when she realized Gwen’s head was still poking up. Resting the lid on her hip, she reached into the crate to help.

“Oopsies,” she said, “Don’t want to bump your noggin!”

Placing her hand on the back of the heroine’s head, she guided it forward and down. Gwen nodded forward obediently, resting her forehead on her knees.

“There we go!” Screwball beamed, “Remember, keep your head and arms inside the box!”

With a last wink at the curled-up figure inside, Screwball placed the lid on top of the crate.

Gwen was left in darkness.

It was quiet and still inside the crate, insulated from any light or sound from the outside. There was nothing at all until the rapping sound of nails being driven into the lid. Screwball hammered them in quickly, making sure it was nice and secure, before stepping away.

With earphones in, hips swaying to brassy pop music even as she worked, the villainess loaded the crate onto a dolly and wheeled it towards the door.

“… I’m your biggest fan…” Screwball sang to herself, “superstar…”

The garage door opened and the self-driving van backed inside. The villainess opened the doors, slid out a ramp she’d made just for this purpose, then rolled the crate and dolly into the back.

“Baby you’ll be famous…”

Tilting the crate up, she wiggled the dolly out from underneath it, then rolled it away.

If Gwen had been awake, she only would have heard the clatter of the ramp being pulled back up, then the back doors of the van slam close one after the other. But she didn’t move and didn’t notice, wouldn’t remember any of this. She was little but cargo now and she didn’t even know it.

“Chase you down til you love me… papa-paparazzi!”

The van drove away and followed all the traffic laws back to Screwball’s hideout. No one noticed a thing.